❛ chapter twenty! ❜

twenty | crow—sasha siem

      A concoction of happiness and confusion floods into my chest when I see the city's hero, the future version of this earth's Barry Allen. His dishevelled figure clad in some blue jeans and a simple black tee and hoodie stands in the doorway across from me. He stares at me with wide and penetrating green eyes. I wait to see at least the tiniest of smiles for an old acquittance or friend if he was ever to consider me one and my waiting is worthless for he doesn't seem to let the corners of his lips go up.

       The smile that automatically lightened my face fades when I realize he's not just staring anymore, he's glaring at me with a level of hatred I've never seen in the green eyes of this earth's Barry Allen, there's a sneer on his face as if I'm the most disgusting thing he's ever seen and his hands are balled into fists. I don't even have time to talk or even ask for the other Barry's whereabouts, for the future version of him has rocketed at me and his hands have found a home around my neck while he squashes me against a wall.

       "You," he seethes at me as his hand curls even tighter around my neck. I'm too confused to try to break free, I can just look into the raging storm trapped in his eyes while my hands curl around his arms, "What else do you want?" He questions between gritted teeth, "What else do you want from me?!" He yells, the veins of his neck popping, his voice leaving a ringing sound in my ears and I whish I had idea of what the hell he's talking about.

        "When did you become so strong?" I manage and he just squeezes harder, making me wheeze. I see the lightning in his eyes before everything becomes blurry and I'm literally tossed to another wall, my head hitting the hard surface in the process. I realize we're in the pipeline now and that future Barry has locked me up in a containment cell. I raise to my feet between a fit of cough as air rushes back into my lungs while the man just glares back sternly at me, the rage in his eyes visible from miles away, "Barry, I know this might be confusing but you have to to let me out, I can explain. Please, trust me, I just need to—"

       "Stop talking!" He exasperates and I observe his frantic pacing and movements overall, "I'm not gonna make the same mistake again," he stabs his finger at me, walking forward and standing just inches from the glass between the two of us and I step closer, my hands on the glass, flinching when he slams his palms on the surface, "I'm not gonna make the same mistake!"

       "What are you talking about? No, no, no! Please, Barry you have to to listen to me!" I shout when he strides away and closes the door to my cell. A frustrated groan bursts out of me as I hit the glass with my fists several times, both desperation and worry taking over my body until the sound of my fist against the glass and my grunting is all I hear; I have to find my Barry. I would never forgive myself if something happens to him here, he could get himself killed because I know he won't stay away from the vigilante job, not even here in the future.

       My breathing has become heavy, my hand has started throbbing and yet my fist still bashes at the transparent surface, for I know it'll pass soon. All my strength is reflected in my possibly broken hand, myself fed up and more desperate than ever at the thought of my Barry getting in trouble and not being able to help him. A loud scream leaves my throat while aiming my bloody fist one last time at the already cracked glass, the scream is soon followed by the sound of shattered glass. Relief as well as my speed washes over my body—for this containment cell from 2024 has been designed to dampen completely a speedster's powers and as far as I know the ones we have back in 2017 don't dampen it completely just partially—and I phase through the last door that keeps me captive, rushing out of the pipeline, determined to find 2017's Barry Allen.

       When I reach the elevator I find future Barry, blocking my only way out. I skid to a harsh stop when he rises the rather large gun in his hands and doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger, releasing a blue blast that wraps my body in raw pain, draining all my energy as the room is filled by my own crying. I never really thought he'd pull the trigger, but he obviously did and without hesitating. The pain evolves to a stinging sensation as if I had been electrocuted and my body grows rigid to the point of falling to the ground with a loud thud and between spasms and tremors.

       I see the man walk up to me, the riffle resting on his shoulder as he grabs my ankle and drags me all the way back to the pipeline. When we get there, he carelessly releases my foot and it hits the floor only to send another wave of pain to my body, this time, the bearable kind. As I lay here, I see him poke the broken glass with his boots and then enter a series of codes into the screen to a side and after that, a new brand containment cell replaces the one I broke.

       "How did you break out?" He asks bitterly, looking down at me with nothing but rage in his eyes. I'm in too much pain to even formulate a sentence and I think he realizes that, for he continues talking, "Doesn't matter, I'll make sure you don't do it again."

       "Wha—What did you do to me?" I manage between cries of pain.

       "This is a Speedster weapon, it cuts off the Speed Force in your body, rendering us speedster temporarily powerless. It was a gift from team Legends," he explains, holding up the high tech weapon, "they made a few modifications for the effect to last longer with this one," and in fact, I don't feel my speed at all.

       "Barry, hear me out—"

       "I've heard enough for a lifetime, believe me."

       "I'm here looking for your 2017 version," I manage as I struggle to sit up and fail in my attempt, "I tracked him here, we need answers, that's why we're here," a groan bubbles in my throat and he cocks his head in confusion. I half rise on my elbows and get myself to sit up with clumsy movements, taking in his confusion. I close my eyes while cursing when I realize of something, "He's not here, isn't he?" He only frowns, "дерьмо, I'm too early; he'll be here," I tell the man who scoffs at my words as he approaches and literally pulls me onto my feet.

       "Yeah, right," he croaks as he throws my arm over his shoulder and carries me into the containment cell, "we work together."

       "But we do! You have to believe me. We need your help, something terrible is going to happen of you don't."

        "I don't think I can ever do that again, Violett," he replies, "the last time I believed in you, it didn't pan out so great," a frown sets on my forehead as he sits me on the floor and a feeling of uneasiness sets within my chest. My eyes are trained on him, as my mind races a mile per second, joining the dots and understanding why he's so mad at me, why everything is like it is now.

       "I failed, didn't I?" I question, my throat closing as I feel the tears glazing my eyes, "That's why you hate me so much, don't you? Oh god, what have I done? I was supposed to help you," a puff of air heaves from my lips, "I failed...I never fail, I'm not supposed to fail."

       "Fail?" I hear him say while I close my eyes for a moment, processing the information.

       "I'm so sorry, Barry," I say quietly, my eyes on him, he just observes me, "I was sent to help you defeat Savitar and I wasn't of much help, was I?" A frown deeper than the ocean itself sets on his forehead. I'm angry and my fist closes to weakly punch the floor, muttering through gritted teeth, "that's what a Speed Force Guardian does, that's what I was supposed to do! Barry, I swear I will fix it. I will, Bar," I notice the way he's observing me, as if he had never seen me shedding a tear of freaked out before.

      "What the hell is a Speed Force Guardian?" His question hits me like a bucket of icy water. What does he mean by that? I explained that to him and the entire team the day I woke up.

       "You know what that is," my voice mirroring the confusion I'm going through, "the Speed Force sends a Guardian to help the people it empathizes with and it gives them a second chance to do things, you were given a second chance," I say and he looks at me like I'm speaking a foreign language and this time I'm pretty sure I'm talking in English to him, "I've been helping you since the first day Savitar showed up. You should be able to remember that. We've even gone to my earth, we've fought together?" I look at him with wondering eyes and he slightly shakes his head, I point at my insignia, "you guys gave me this for Christmas because I didn't have one?" He scoffs, "I beat you every time at the races? Barry, come on, I'm not lying," I state, for he's looking at me as if he's convinced that I am.

       I see him suck in a breath and sliding his hand into one of his pockets as he walks closer and kneels in front of me, his eyes run across my face in search of something I don't know, but I can tell he's eager to find that out. My heart leaps in my chest when I see the syringe being withdrawn from his pocket.

       "If me from the past is coming, like you say—"

       "He will. I'm just not sure how long that's gonna take."

       "We'll wait for him, then. That shouldn't be a problem if he's really coming, should it?" He tells me as he uncaps the syringe, "This is just in case. I can't have you breaking all the cells in the meantime."

      "Barry, I'm not lying," I say in a trembling whisper. He looks into my eyes as if reconsidering his decision, but the syringe sinks in my neck anyway, my is body too weak to fight back or, at least, slap it away and the effects take over in matter of seconds. I see his face grow blurry as fog starts to wrap my body and I feel angry at him, why is it so hard to believe me? We can save Iris and change all this if he just believed me. My head lolling to a side and my eyes fixing on the blue cell wall is the last thing I remember.

        There, lined up in perfect rows, stood girls and boys that had barely turned fifteen—the future of our great country, the new warriors. Their gray shirts almost camouflaging with the wall behind, their combat trousers impeccable; at this point in the training we were considered capable of wielding guns, bows and knives at perfection, we would have mastered all martial arts there existed, we would have mastered the art of killing someone and—of course—at the age of fifteen, that small group of twenty would have killed at least ten people each—their innocence ripped off from them to turn them into killers.

       The girls with their hair pulled back in a tight braid; the boys with hair as short as soldiers, all wearing the same clothes and the signature blank expression we were taught at the Academy remained in sepulchral silence, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I couldn't see them, but I knew their once innocent eyes were fixed on me, not because they wanted, but because they were forced to do so, as our teacher—to whom we could only refer as commander—pushed me to my knees and cuffed me to the steel post in the centre of the large and dark room. I had remained as still as I could all this time, doing my best to calm my racing heart down, but the sound of the commander's boots impatiently pacing behind me made it speed up instead.

       "We do not fail, Violetta," the jet black haired woman said, her fingers curling tightly around the whip in her hand and my throat growing dry by the second, "we were born to be fierce, to conquer, to reign in the battlefield, we cannot be weak, why is that?"

       "Because were warriors," I said without faltering, even though I was terrified for she was about to whip the living crap out of me. A pleased hum sounded in the woman's throat. I knew it was coming, I could feel the whip kissing my body and leaving its hot breath on my skin, cracking it open so that everyone could see what was inside.

       My hands nervously and instinctively gripped at the chains tied to the cuffs, bracing for the blinding pain that would swallow me whole. I hated this, I had been punished like this a few times and I had seen other kids being punished almost every day for a series of reasons, though; disrespecting our teachers, or not performing in the 1000% we were expected to perform, whining or being lazy, you name it, you'd find a mark in our bodies that was made to remind us not to do it again. I hated this was their way of controlling us, they called it 'an effective way to educate the young warriors', to me this only made us rebel even more—others, not so much, though. I just wanted to be over with this; the woman would follow he protocol and ask two kids to help me out. A blond boy would be the first to volunteer, like always, the only one I felt I could trust wholeheartedly in that hell hole: Ward. As my eyes landed on him I would remember the first time I was punished, even remembering was painful but I was glad I was punished that day, for I met the one that would be my best friend and partner in crime during my stay at the Academy.

       "You sound confident, however, your performance today was an utter disgrace. You should be ashamed," she hissed into my ear, sending shivers to my already trembling spine, "it's certainly contradictory to your beliefs and actions, are you aware of that?" I bit the inside of my cheek, opening the bruise my teeth left the last time I stopped myself from talking back at that woman.

       "Yes, commander," I gushed, savouring the blood oozing from my cheek. As soon as the last word left my throat, the cracking sound of my skin being slashed open echoed throughout the room as well as a the loud scream filled with pain, anger and hate toward this woman that enjoyed seeing us break like nothing but toothpicks under her whip and other torture methods carefully thought out and orchestrated to form us into the warriors we were supposed to be—many of the kids that were considered 'not to have it in them' were executed and everyone feared that, you either became the best or you died. The whip made contact with my skin one, two, three, times and I think it was the tenth time when I lost count. Hot blood trickled down and stained my clothes, my shirt completely reduced to shreds as my knuckles turned white by gripping the chains that held me. The woman stood beside me at some point and I became aware that the punishment was over. She grabbed my face with a blood stained hand, helping me lift my head—for I could barely move by myself due to the pain—so that I could see her face, which had traces of my blood on it from when she sent blow after blow. Her skilled and frigid hands set over mine, caressing them until my rigid fingers decided to let go from the chains.

       "You can be better," she had tenderly said. This was the part I never understood, the part where she acted like a caring mother. I had seen it countless of times and I never understood the reason behind the careful way she uncuffed us, how sweet she spoke after she had slashed our backs open and left a mark not only physical but emotional in us. Sometimes she would even press a kiss on our foreheads before repeating the six words that made this torture look like a simple disciplinary measurement in order for us to be better, and so she'd coo, "This was for your own good, darling," she'd clean her whip, "'I shall rise, for I'm a warrior and falling is not in my nature', say it."

       "I shall rise...for I'm a warrior and falling is not in my nature," I had said as loud as I could. A pleased expression set on her face and her icy stare shifted at the small crowd in the room to ask two boys to take me to the infirmary to be attended by the military nurses. Forget what your parents taught you. Take your emotions and bury them, you won't need them here. We own you now. Work, train and fight to be the best if survival is what you seek—the message was as simple as that. Even though I was punished countless of times after that one time, it was never for my performance. They wanted fierce, someone fit to conquer, to reign on the battlefield, so I gave it to them. They created me and the havoc I was capable of.

       A feeling of disorientation seeps throughout my ody and a single voice overlaps around me, pulling me out of the land of dreams and memories for good. Even though my still drugged brain pinpoints the voice as familiar, it takes me quite a long time to recognize to whom that mellifluous voice belongs to. My eyes blink open and I discover that I'm more than awake now, to the point of sitting up as if I had never been drugged only to find the owner, or should I say owners of said voice standing at my cell door. If it wasn't because the obvious differences between Barry and his counterpart from the future I'd say I'm seeing double.

       I hiss quietly when I feel the pain in my neck. Guess I slept funny on it for who knows for how long. As I get on my feet the two men exchange a look and the one from the future looks at me with scrutinizing eyes before opening the cell. I look at the Barry Allen in the darker suit with a somewhat silly grin on my lips, for I know that he didn't want me to come to the future with him, he's got this told-ya kind of look on his face and I slowly step out of my cell with my cheeks on fire.

       "Hey, Bar. You won't believe what happened to me today."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

introducing emo barry. pretty smart to use the speedster weapon on violett; for those who don't know, team legends have these type of weapon but wince i don't watch the show i don't know much about it, except for what i've researched, like the very eobard thawne built them, kind of dumb because team legends use it against him, but oh well. . .

what did you guys think about the prime academy bit? next chapter should be interesting and full of surprises. . .too.